Wednesday 24 July 2024

What is going on over at ASSAP?


 Romer resigns!

Unfortunate events are occurring at the Association for the Scientific Study of Anomalous Phenomena (ASSAP).  The chair, Christian Jensen Romer (known as CJ), has resigned, along with the treasurer, Dr Becky Smith, plus a number of executive committee members.  Becky remains as treasurer on paper to satisfy legal requirements and to hand over to her successor, when appointed, in an orderly manner.  Meanwhile, the organisation ties itself in knots as factions snipe at each other on ASSAP’s Facebook page – a forum open to non-members as well as members.  As a member myself I have naturally followed events with interest.

The circumstances of this rift were initially murky.  Gradually it transpired that a faction of five individuals on the executive, pretentiously calling themselves ‘The Fellowship’ (a soubriquet they seemed a little embarrassed by once it had been made public), set up a private Messenger group bypassing ASSAP’s three directors: the chair, the treasurer and the secretary (Claire Davy).  On the face of it the problem seemed to be a simple oversight in informing the Charity Commission of a change to the Articles of Association, something that, while awkward, could surely be easily rectified.

 

Articles of Association confusion

What was the nature of this oversight?  An email was circulated to members on 3 July by Dr Hugh Pincott, ASSAP vice-president and company secretary (who has not otherwise been involved in the situation).  This contained a motion to be put to an EGM to be held on 25 July: ‘That the illegal Articles of Association agreed in 2010 be rescinded, and replaced by the previous ones of 2007. The latter are agreed to be valid by the Charity Commission and deemed by it to be our governing document.’

His explanatory notes amplify how this state of affairs had come about.  Essentially, ASSAP’s original 1981 Articles of Association were updated in 2007, then further updated in 2010 and passed by the membership at that year’s AGM.  But one change was that ASSAP should have only three directors – chair, secretary and treasurer.  The Charity Commission had stated that all trustees are directors, and an organisation should not have only three.  The 2007 version allowed all trustees to be directors.

The EGM motion over Pincott’s name therefore invited members to discard the 2010 Articles, which would not be approved by the Commission, thereby reinstating the 2007 ones.  Further, it would ‘protect our present and future Directors (doubtless acting through ignorance of the Law) from criminal prosecution by the Commission and Companies House.’  Such a proposal is wise, looking at past history.

No doubt if the 2010 Articles had been sent to the Charity Commission this problem would have been swiftly pointed out, but they were not, through an oversight of the then chair (not CJ) and secretary.  So not knowing of this update, the Charity Commission assumed the 2007 Articles were in operation, while the ASSAP executive assumed the 2010 version was valid.  Once this anomalous situation had become apparent, realisation dawned that something needed to be done.  Consequently, CJ spent hours on the phone to the Charity Commission to check that the 2010 articles complied with the law and were valid.

 

The Fellowship rings in

Unfortunately a subset of executive members managed to blow up an administrative problem into chaos.  Whether rightly or wrongly, the three directors CJ, Becky and (apparently) Claire understood The Fellowship intended to remove them, using the confusion over the Articles as ammunition, even though none of the three had been involved in the 2010 error.  This involved The Fellowship contacting the Charity Commission direct, without the chair’s knowledge, rather than through the official organisational channel, in order to confirm the accuracy of CJ’s statements.  The result was seen as circumventing and undermining the directors.  This was what led to CJ and Becky’s resignation, followed by several other members of the 13-strong executive (CJ’s announcement on Facebook of his departure has since been deleted).  The major responsibility for sorting out the mess has fallen to Claire.

 

Parsons speaks

Naturally once the news of CJ’s departure broke there was alarm and despondency among the members, and a great deal of criticism was levelled at The Fellowship.  Initially there was little appetite by the Fellows to put their side of the story, but first Bill Eyre placed a defence on Facebook, then Steve Parsons, followed by a formal statement signed by all five.  In his commentary, Parsons noted the difficult personal circumstances CJ and Becky faced at the time the problem with the Articles came to light – Becky had suffered a bereavement in March, affecting both of them deeply – and while the fellows were conscious of the risk of losing Becky and CJ (presumably by undermining their authority, though Parsons is not specific on the point), it was felt action was required.

While nobody would disagree with that aim, the methods adopted are open to question.  Parsons asserts they were in fact doing CJ a favour by trying to ease his workload as they were obliged to ensure ASSAP’s good governance, and the extra pressure might have caused CJ to quit, something they were keen to avoid (even though in fact he was busy dealing with the Charity Commission to sort the problem out).  So they weren’t really going behind his back as conspirators, just being helpful by trying to clarify the situation prior to an executive meeting.  Parsons stresses there was no secrecy, but it’s hard to see quite how this process was transparent with the chair and treasurer excluded, plus other executive members missing.  He makes no reference to the secretary, who should have been included in such discussions, as she made clear in a Facebook comment.  There was in fact no legitimacy to The Fellowship’s actions.

And the name?  Group chats require a title according to Parsons, so The Fellowship was used off the cuff, with no deep meaning.  My understanding is the group was using Messenger, not WhatsApp as originally stated, and it isn’t necessary to give a Messenger group a name, so I don’t know what Parsons is referring to here.  He feels it was unfortunate this desire to help had the opposite effect of pushing CJ to resign, leading to hostility towards The Fellowship.  And finally, he says, if the entire executive were to resign, as has been mooted by some members, then ASSAP would cease to function.  That is true if they were not replaced, but there may be members willing to take on the challenge, and be team players.

 

The Fellowship puts its side

There followed a ‘Statement of facts relating to the governance of ASSAP’, dated 15 July, signed by the gang of five and sent to members, which at least finally made clear all the names of those involved.  This picked up many of the points in the statements released by Eyre and Parsons on Facebook.  Noting they now formed the majority of those left on the executive (five out of eight), the rest having resigned, they put forward their version ‘to clarify events.’  They refer to statements made by CJ at executive meetings during 2024 about governance which concerned the signatories and of which they claimed to have been previously unaware.  A group held ‘offline’ discussions (i.e. not in meetings of the executive) ‘to identify their concerns and consider how these could be raised with C J without causing upset or offence or seeming to make any false accusations.’

They could have said to CJ they were worried about the issues he had highlighted and suggested they seek to resolve them collectively.  I’m sure he would not have been upset or offended, quite the contrary.  Yet the Fellows refer to ‘accusations’ because bizarrely ‘we had gained the impression that CJ was perhaps ‘inventing’ rules as he went along and thought that he had produced a ‘new version of the A of A [Articles of Association]’.  One can see why CJ might have been offended by the suggestion, but they could have been put right easily enough had they only asked.  Reading the Articles would have helped comprehension.  Either CJ was spectacularly opaque in his presentation or the clique was being disingenuous.

What to do?   Well, they continue, they were going to talk to CJ, but before they had a chance, they say Stu Neville informed him of these secret discussions, at which point CJ resigned, making allegations that there was a ‘secretive coup to overthrow him.’  It should be noted that Neville, who resigned from the executive when the scandal broke, was said by CJ not to be the source, rather he was told by three separate individuals, one of whom had signed this very statement – it sounds as though members of The Fellowship were not being candid with each other.  But they claim there was no coup, secret or otherwise, so CJ was wrong.  As ‘concerned trustees’ they were merely trying to work out the correct rules, adding it is not unusual for subsets of executive members to discuss items such as events or training privately before bringing them to the attention of the full executive.

All blown out of proportion then.  But these constitutional matters are more fundamental than training or events, which would be handled by the executive member responsible before discussion by the full executive.  Furthermore, CJ had brought these items to their attention, so it seemed odd to exclude both him and the secretary from the Messenger chat when CJ was operating normally despite Becky’s bereavement, and Claire would have been perfectly able to contribute.  Yet the directors were conspicuous by their absence from the group, despite the key role they would need to play in rectifying past mistakes.

 

The regrettable misunderstandings

The Fellowship claim they acted with the best of intentions, and CJ’s resignation arose from two misunderstandings, one on either side.  The first was their assumption that the 2010 Articles had been ‘the work of CJ,’ whereas they had been the responsibility of a previous chair.  They were told this by CJ after he resigned, and they say that had they known beforehand, there would have been no need to have the ‘offline’ conversation.  They do not concede that this is what you get when you cut a key player out of the loop and act on incomplete information.  The second was CJ’s assumption that there was a plot to unseat him and seize the leadership of ASSAP.  It was never contemplated ‘owing to it being an onerous, time consuming, yet unpaid, role.’

A fair assessment, yet they still undermined the chair, and presumably the notion didn’t pop into CJ’s head from nowhere, unless The Fellowship want to add a charge of paranoia.  They conclude that the business could have been avoided by having an executive meeting before CJ resigned, though they could easily have requested one by approaching the secretary.  They maintain that ‘CJ’s decision to become petulant, resign and involve the whole of the ASSAP membership in these matters has undoubtedly brought ASSAP into disrepute,’ a sentiment a contributor on Facebook characterised as a textbook example of gaslighting.

The Fellowship said they had initially refrained from commenting to avoid further argument, but had no choice because CJ’s ‘distorted account’ had resulted in ‘malicious accusations’ against The Fellowship, though actually their silence had stoked annoyance as it looked as though they had no adequate response.  When CJ resigned there was an outpouring of affection for him on the Facebook page, with many positive comments about his various activities for ASSAP, and a marked feeling he had been hard done by, but criticisms were measured, not malicious.

While they thought CJ was a good researcher and speaker, The Fellowship believed ‘his petulant nature and periodic outbursts when dealing with other members of the Executive does make us doubt his suitability for the Chairman’s role.’  They had previously said they had no plans to oust him and couldn’t think who else might take on this ‘onerous, time-consuming’ position anyway, now he is unsuitable for the job.  The thought processes appear confused.  An indignant Hayley Stevens took exception to the repeated use of petulant and wrote a blog post titled ‘ASSAP Exec. Loses Plot, Call (sic) CJ Romer “Petulant”’.

 

Romer bites back

Not only Hayley Stevens took exception.  The Fellows’ self-justification evoked an email to members from the man himself, a clearly annoyed CJ setting out his ‘final statement’ following his earlier Facebook interventions.  Beginning by highlighting the lack of communication leading to this outcome, he exonerates Neville from the charge of having dobbed The Fellowship to him.  He also mentions in passing an allegation by The Fellowship that he had changed passwords when they had not been changed, indicating a worrying lack of competence on their part.  He alludes to complaints made about a talk he had given, though no details have been aired.  Naturally he is vexed by the reference to petulance because naturally he sees his action as proportionate and considered.

He says he and Becky were planning to stand down at the 2024 AGM in October anyway, but wanted an orderly transition, a long way from what has happened.  Not only has he stepped down from the executive, he has left ASSAP, although finishing off some jobs.  Other outstanding business will fall to what remains of the executive, not least the Journal and magazine, currently being proofread.  Normally CJ and Becky would oversee production and dispatch, but he has passed the task on to the no doubt chuffed publications officer.

 

Next steps

The Fellowship contends CJ overreacted, but I would say his response has been entirely reasonable.  I’m sure I would have felt much the same had I discovered a group of executive members were going behind my back and doubting what I was saying, however they dressed it up.  I’ve known him thirty years, and whatever the merits of the Fellowship’s case he is an honourable, hardworking, highly intelligent individual who has given a great deal of service to ASSAP over many years, as chair, editor of its publications, talk organiser and presenter, as well as the administration that goes with committee work.  Looked at objectively, it is hard to disagree he has been shabbily treated, even if one charitably characterises the actions of The Fellowship as merely inept.

The Fellowship sign off their 15 July statement by acknowledging that several executive members had resigned because of the stress (though there are other explanations), express the wish that the remaining ones will carry on trying to provide services, and welcome new members who decide to stand at the 2024 AGM in the autumn.  Whether the executive can carry on so severely understaffed for the next three months is debatable.  In particular, the resignations of executive members have created a great deal of work for the secretary.

Unsurprisingly there have been numerous calls to hold elections for all executive posts immediately, and if they are, The Fellowship will discover how convincing their arguments and justifications have been (the one Fellow who may feel he is safe is Steve Parsons, because he is so deeply embedded in the ASSAP training programme).  When the elections are held the membership will face hard choices, not least whether it wants individuals whose judgement has been so lacking to continue in positions of responsibility.  The EGM to be held on 25 July may present a way forward, and allow the Association to rebuild.  The Fellowship members will be a key aspect of the debate, I’m sure.

 

Acknowledgement: The image was generated at OpenArt AI, using the prompt ‘crisis in psychical research’.


Friday 12 July 2024

A couple of coincidences


These are notes of a couple of coincidences I experienced in 2020 which have been sitting in my file ever since.  I offer them diffidently, on the assumption that some people will find them about as interesting as hearing someone else’s dream.  On the other hand, while they probably have no significance, they still leave me with a feeling they might point to something deeper I cannot quite put my finger on (the reason I noted them).

 

1 Cause Célèbre

On the evening of Friday 24 April 2020, I sat down with my wife to watch the 1987 Anglia Television adaptation of Terence Rattigan’s final play Cause Célèbre, starring Helen Mirren, Harry Andrews and David Morrissey as Alma Rattenbury, her husband Francis, and her young lover George Bowman respectively.  The play is based on the real-life murder at Bournemouth in 1935 of Alma’s elderly husband and the subsequent trial of Alma Rattenbury and George Stoner (presumably the name change to Bowman was because Stoner was still alive in 1987) at the Old Bailey.

While I was putting the DVD into the player I mentioned I was familiar with the case from a true crime volume, and said, disregarding spoilers, that the husband was attacked by the lover when Alma and her husband were walking along a suburban road and the young man jumped out from behind a hedge, bludgeoning him.  As we watched the programme it was clear this was not how the murder happened: George creeps into the downstairs bedroom of ‘Rats’, as Alma calls her husband, and whacks him several times with a mallet, cracking his skull.  Clearly, I had been confusing it with another case, but a search the following morning did not throw up what it was.

A few hours later I was reading the Daily Telegraph’s Saturday review section and turned to Simon Heffer’s ‘Hinterland’ column.  He writes about aspects of British culture and generally has something interesting to say.  To my surprise his subject was a 1934 novel by F Tennyson Jesse, A Pin to See the Peepshow, a fictionalised retelling of the Thompson/Bywaters murder case at Ilford in 1922.  Although Heffer does not refer to the manner of the murder, the mention of Thompson was enough to remind me this was the case I had had in mind the previous evening.  Edith Thompson had an affair with the lodger, Frederick Bywaters.  One night, while Edith and her husband Percy were walking home, Frederick jumped out from some bushes and stabbed Percy several times, fatally injuring him.

There were similarities in the Thompson and Rattenbury cases: an affair between a married woman and a younger man leading to violence against the husband, though whereas in the latter Alma was acquitted (shortly afterwards committing suicide) and George’s capital sentence was commuted to a prison term, both Edith and Frederick were hanged.  This was clearly a miscarriage of justice as there was no evidence Edith was complicit in the death of her husband.  Perhaps the more lenient judicial outcome for Alma and George 13 years later – the court of public opinion was another matter – was influenced by the earlier verdict.  I had wrongly recalled that Percy Thompson was bludgeoned, as Francis Rattenbury was, because he was stabbed; I had clearly conflated the two murders.

This was a minor coincidence to be sure, but it seemed odd to have the reference I had been seeking fall into my lap with no effort after having failed to track it down a mere couple of hours before.  They are both fairly well-known true-crime cases of course, but Heffer ranges widely over British culture, and there were many topics he could have addressed other than A Pin to See the Peepshow.  However, another echo on Sunday 26 April, when I heard about a multiple stabbing in Ilford, indicated the need for caution when assessing events with so many potential associations.

Then to my surprise the following month the Rattenbury murder popped up again, with no effort on my part to seek it out.  The excellent Strange Histories blog (subtitled ‘A walk on the weird side of history’), which I follow, published a lengthy post on 25 May 2020 titled ‘A Moment of Madness: Murder at the Villa Madeira’.  This recounted the background, murder and aftermath in some detail, highlighting the complexities of the confessions which raise doubts over who actually killed Francis Rattenbury.  A comment remarking it would make a good film elicited the reply that Cause Célèbre was based on the case.  This is the sort of story Strange Histories would cover so its inclusion was not surprising, but it felt noteworthy coming so shortly after what was already a coincidence relating to the Rattenbury case.

But it was not the last time it crossed my horizon during those weeks.  On 1 July I received an email from a Sean O’Connor about a particular topic he was working on with which he thought I could assist (it became the 2022 book The Haunting of Borley Rectory).  Not knowing the name, I looked him up and discovered he was the author of the 2019 non-fiction book The Fatal Passion of Alma Rattenbury, and in the foreword he refers to the Edith Thompson trial.  By now of course I was picking up on any mention of these cases, whereas at one time they would perhaps have passed by little noticed (leaving aside my general interest in true crime), but it still seems strange to come across so many references over so short a period.

 

2 ESP in Life and Lab

If anything, this was odder.  I was reading Louisa E Rhine’s 1967 ESP in Life and Lab:Tracing Hidden Channels, a book mixing anecdotal evidence sent by members of the public and the results of laboratory research into psi processes.  One of the anecdotes (pp. 192-4) was about a dream a woman had had.  In it she came upon a house, inside which she could see a room set up for what looked like a wedding breakfast, although there were no people around.  A few weeks later she and her husband were invited to a meal to celebrate his having achieved 25 years with his company (something neither had realised was imminent until he was told).

The meal took place at a new inn they had never been to before.  Although reluctant to go, it proved to be a very enjoyable lunch.  The writer said they married during the Depression and did not have much of a celebration, so this felt more like her wedding than the real one had.  When they entered the dining room, she had a feeling she had been in it before, and after she returned home she realised the room was the one in her dream though reversed, as in the dream she was looking in from the outside, hence she had not immediately recognised it.

Now, quite often dates are not given in these accounts; the year is mentioned, sometimes the month, but precise dates are infrequent, probably a function of the delay between having the experience and writing the report.  In this case, however, the precise date is supplied.  The date of the dream, which the dreamer took to represent a room where a wedding was to take place, was 7 March 1953.  That was the very day my parents married in south London.  There is no doubt about the date of the dream because the dreamer wrote her account straight away.

This was one of many reports in the extensive Rhine collection that could have been used to illustrate the point being made, and one of the few in the book with a precise date.  To then find the reference to a wedding has a date which tallies with an event of personal significance (albeit occurring before my time!) seems remarkable.  There would have been few things linking a middle-class couple in Virginia and a working-class couple in Camberwell, but here a dream provided a connection only appreciated 67 years later.  I should add the reason I am sure of the date of my parents’ wedding is because I was born on their wedding anniversary.

 

I have had a couple of other experiences, as recounted in the Autumn/Winter 1996 issue of However Improbable, the magazine of the long-gone Anglia Paranormal Research Group.  In the first of these, when I was a student, I was hitchhiking with a girlfriend to Greece and we met some college acquaintances, also hitch-hiking, on a minor road somewhere in Yugoslavia (also long gone).  In the second, while on a family holiday from Norfolk, we bumped into my young daughter’s best friend from home in Carlisle railway station.

These are incidents in life that seem to have no great meaning (though I was happy to have my idle curiosity about English domestic murder satisfied in such an easy fashion by Mr Heffer) but they catch our attention.  Similar anecdotes can be told by many people, the sort of thing that makes one wonder about the interconnectedness of life no explanations couched in terms of the law of large numbers can quite satisfy.

 


Wednesday 19 June 2024

The Ghostly Gift of Miss Constance Couper, by Sean Lang


Sean Lang’s latest play, acted with an all-women cast by Combined Actors of Cambridge, was produced at Cambridge’s ADC Theatre from the 16th to 20th April 2024.  The Ghostly Gift of Miss Constance Couper is very loosely inspired by Charlotte Moberly (1846-1937), principal of St Hugh’s College, Oxford, and Eleanor Jourdain (1863-1924), who became her vice-principal and eventually succeeded her.  While visiting Versailles in August 1901 they claimed to have been transported back to the late eighteenth century, as recounted in their book An Adventure, first published in 1911 and appearing in five editions until 1955.  They used the pseudonyms Elizabeth Morison and Frances Lamont, and the fourth edition, published in 1931, while Moberly was alive, was the first to include the authors’ real names.

Lang, an Oxford graduate, was, until his recent retirement, Senior Lecturer in history at Anglia Ruskin University and – full disclosure – the internal examiner when I took a PhD at ARU.  He weaves together three time-lines: the horrors of the French Revolution, in particular its effect on Marie Antoinette; the academics Misses Annie Martindale and Constance Couper at Oxford, including their holiday visit to Versailles, after which Miss Martindale writes a book detailing an alleged time-slip; and a couple of young women in 1968 sharing the house in which Martindale and Couper had lived together.

However, the events recounted by Miss Martindale are faked, the book instigated by Miss Couper as part of a nefarious plot to discredit her colleague, force her retirement, and assume her position as principal of St Hugh’s.  A scene shows Miss Martindale offering the job as her deputy to Miss Couper, who delightedly accepts, then proposing they share Miss Martindale’s house close to the college, which she owns.  Miss Couper accepts Miss Martindale’s generosity and uses it to her advantage.

After their holiday, Miss Couper suggests they use the visit to Versailles and the people they had seen while walking around to produce a narrative describing how they were transported back to the eighteenth century.  They would both write accounts, containing minor discrepancies to demonstrate they had been written independently but agreeing on all important points.  Initially, Miss Couper says they should do this as a private exercise for their own entertainment, a jeu d’esprit, and Miss Martindale enthusiastically agrees.

Later, Miss Couper encourages the naive Miss Martindale to publish the account, knowing the result would be to make her look credulous, and lose the support of the college fellows in the ensuing controversy.  With Miss Martindale eased out, Miss Couper, despite her weaknesses as an academic, would be well situated to replace her.  The plan appears to be on the point of working when Miss Martindale says she wishes to step down. 

Unfortunately for Miss Couper, the mild Miss Martindale then baulks at the prospect of resignation, and in a riverside confrontation declares that not only does she have no intention of standing down but, having seen through Miss Couper’s strategy, intends to force her out instead, possessing proof Miss Couper had played a full part in the planning and execution of the book.  However, if finesse cannot work, force can, and Miss Couper pushes her colleague into the river, the death allowing Miss Couper to have the top job after all.

Miss Couper tries to recruit an able young lecturer, Miss Ada Smart, to her side by dangling a fellowship, and Miss Smart become Miss Couper’s vice-principal.  Later, disenchanted by Miss Smart, Miss Couper tells her that she plans to force her out.  However, during the inquest Miss Couper stated she had been in the house at the time Miss Martindale drowned, but Miss Smart, who had accompanied Miss Martindale to the river for a walk before leaving her to attend a suffragette meeting, had seen Miss Couper close by.

Belatedly going over the inquest documents, Miss Smart compiles enough circumstantial evidence to show the death might not have been an accident, the mere hint of which would cause a scandal for Miss Couper.  The price of Miss Smart’s silence?  Miss Couper’s resignation, enabling Miss Smart to take over as principal.  To this Miss Couper agrees (one might think she would attempt to brazen it out), but she continues to live close by in the house, dying there an embittered old woman.

The second time period follows Marie Antoinette at Versailles as the French Revolution begins and gradually the violence escalates, until not only does it destroy the royal family but is killing even those who had supported it.  The third period is1968.  Sheila Smart, Ada’s great-niece and a student at St Hugh’s, moves in and is joined by fellow student Perdi Warrender.  Sheila has been given the accommodation rent free, and assumes this was thanks to her great-aunt.  Sheila is a buttoned-up provincial intent on her studies while Perdi is a cosmopolitan hedonist, but despite their initial friction a friendship grows between them, and they find they have more in common than they initially realised.

Then mysterious, and increasingly scary, events start to happen and it becomes clear the house is haunted.  The haunting escalates and the students realise there is an intelligence behind it.  Perdi does some digging in the archive and learns it was not Sheila’s great-aunt who had been her benefactor.  Rather, Miss Couper had willed the house to the college on the understanding that should any descendants of Ada Smart ever come to the college to study, they would be given rooms there free of charge.

The reason for her largesse towards a relative of the person who had destroyed her career was because it would give her an opportunity to be revenged on Miss Smart by proxy.  As Sheila is a diabetic, this can be achieved by hiding her insulin syringe, leading to diabetic coma.  At the climax, with Perdi shut out of the house by the paranormal force and Sheila close to unconsciousness, the full-form apparition of Miss Couper appears and menaces her.  She is saved by Miss Smart who appears and by an act of will forces Miss Couper back (the ghostliness of each signalled by the wearing of veils covering their faces).  Perdi is able to enter and help Sheila administer her insulin, saving her and thwarting Miss Couper.

In his programme notes Lang asks who would have been the ghosts in 1901 if Moberly and Jourdain had really gone back in time.  It would not have been those in the eighteenth century ‘now’, rather the visitors from its future.  But even with their ghostly presence Lang notes the time-slip is not scary (though to be fair that was not Moberly and Jourdain’s intention) and says he wanted his play to be scary, hence why he added the 1968 thread.  He was able to introduce a more conventional kind of ghost, a familiar horror type as seen for example in The Woman in Black, to menace the living.  But the aim was not merely to provide a frisson for the audience, a theme was how each of the three periods featured emancipation of some kind, but with limited gains for women.

The identification of Miss Martindale with Charlotte Moberly and Miss Couper with Eleanor Jourdain is so close that the uninformed viewer would be forgiven for thinking Lang is presenting a scenario close to the reality.  He is of course free to create any kind of play he likes based on historical events, but his distorted treatment of Moberly and Jourdain, including murder, is actually distasteful.  Moberly became the first principal of St Hugh’s College, Oxford, in 1886.  Jourdain was her deputy and succeeded her as principal in 1915, remaining so until her death.  So, while the play has Martindale/Moberly dying violently while in post, easing the way for Couper/Jourdain, actually Moberly outlived Jourdain.  Nor was Jourdain ousted by a younger academic, leading her to ‘haunt’ the college in her old age, rather she retained the position until her death.  Lang has used an incident in Jourdain’s career when she ill-advisedly attempted to dismiss a colleague, which would have likely resulted in her resignation, but she died of natural causes first.  Most obviously, while the authors used pseudonyms, from the first edition it was clear that An Adventure was a joint effort, not the product of a single pen.

Lang paints Martindale as weak and manipulated by Couper, who is also able to use undue influence on the college fellows, until Martindale stands up to her, with fatal consequences.  But there is no indication the relationship between Moberly and Jourdain became toxic, and it is implausible that someone so weak-willed would have managed to achieve such a senior level in an Oxford college.  Nor is it likely the book was a cynical hoax, the authors knowing the events it depicts were fictional.  The content of An Adventure is heavily contested, but the considerable amount of discussion it has generated since 1911 invariably starts with the assumption they were sincere, even if mistaken.  By playing fast and loose with the facts, Lang has done their memory a disservice.

Friday 15 September 2023

Goodbye Doli, Welcome Jane: The Girl, the Ghost and the Gravestone


The Brother Doli case was originally reported by psychologist Michael Daniels in the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research (JSPR) in 2002.  Now the Penyffordd Farm case (Penyffordd fittingly translates as ‘end of the road’), it is the subject of a four-part BBC3 series presented by Radio 1 DJ Sian Eleri and produced by Twenty Twenty Television.  It is easy to see why it caught the attention of the producers, because of the sheer quantity, variety and dramatic nature of the events.

From 1997 the property, at Treuddyn in Flintshire, North Wales, was the scene of an extensive range of allegedly paranormal phenomena, much of it with a religious connection.  These included hundreds of stains and carvings of images and words, mostly in Welsh, both inside and outside the house.  In addition, there were photographic anomalies, noises, smells, temperature changes, puddles of water, displaced objects, flower petals transforming into dying wasps, electrical, telephone and computer anomalies, and more.  Throw in a sighting of the Virgin Mary and ghosts of a monk and a pregnant teenage girl and there’s plenty for a series.

These phenomena were promoted tirelessly at the time by owner Rose-Mary Gower in a number of media appearances, and investigated in a sober manner by Daniels (the page numbers in brackets below refer to his JSPR article and a following article contributed by Rose-Mary and her husband David).  Daniels made 14 visits totalling 54 hours between 12 November 2000 and 3 March 2001, with four further visits to discuss later developments between 9 December 2001 and 12 May 2002, and maintained a regular email correspondence (pp. 193-4).  His report occupies 29 pages of JSPR.

The Gowers moved into Penyffordd Farm in February 1997, and Rose-Mary told Daniels that previously they lived in an adjacent bungalow from May 1995 (p. 194).  Daniels lists the family living in the house as Rose-Mary, David and their adopted son John-Paul, who has Down’s Syndrome.  Daughters Nicolette, Adrienne (not named by Daniels but interviewed by Eleri) and a third (who is not named by either) lived elsewhere, but Daniels notes all three were regular visitors (p. 201).  

The programme presents new information but anyone expecting a breakthrough is going to be disappointed, though it is nice to see the people who had been involved and have a brief sample of the AV material Daniels collected.  The two hours are rather slow, with much filler focusing on Eleri rather than the case, the programmes particularly keen to establish her Welsh-speaking credentials (she tells us she grew up not far from Penyffordd).  For reasons not explained there is a pivot away from Brother Doli, now demoted from star to supporting player, with the mysterious ghostly teenager Jane Jones taking centre stage.

While not someone clued up about psychical research, or science, Eleri stands in for the uninformed viewer, asking questions in an attempt to make sense of the evidence, mulling over possible explanations and wondering what conclusions to draw.  Understandably the wide range of phenomena reported by the Gowers and recorded by Daniels has been slimmed down for television in the interests of time and credibility.  Eleri does have Daniels to guide her, and he gives her access to his research, his JSPR article, research notes, photographs and tapes, as her starting point (the JSPR issue containing his article, with its distinctive yellow cover, is the first item she takes out of his document box), so she knows from the outset what he found.

Unfortunately, the pretence Eleri was being filmed as she played detective, gradually uncovering information while filling a pin-board with bits and pieces from Daniels’ box (one hopes they were copies and not the originals), means information is not presented in a logical manner.  The investigatory pose also leads to some odd moments, such as when Eleri turns up at Penyffordd Farm on the off-chance of finding someone at home and the crew films through the window.  Being doorstepped is not always appreciated.  When nobody answers the door she pushes a scruffy note through the letter box, although a typed letter would have been more appropriate if less telegenic.

But it is not a wasted trip, as she knocks on a few more doors and speaks to neighbours, some of whom have memories of the media circus the Gowers instigated.  She concludes that it sounds as though they think Rose-Mary was making it up, which seems an accurate conclusion to draw.  Eleri claims on being told about the Virgin Mary from the neighbours that she had not heard about it before, when she would have known about it from the JSPR article Daniels gave her (pp.194-5).  This was the first event in the chronology, with a couple of holidaymakers named Dooley sending a letter to the Mold & Buckley Chronicle saying they had seen a vision of ‘Our Lady’ in a field owned by the Gowers, and they had subsequently found their ailments improving.  The story generated a great deal of interest, and members of the public began turning up at the field.  Eventually the story was picked up by the News of the World (p. 195).

Eleri meets Penyffordd Farm’s current owner, Michael Levy, not put off by an introduction in biro torn out of a notebook, who has lived at the house for a decade and runs a glamping business called Crazy Pheasant.  Eleri is invited to spend the night in the yurt, pitched in the field where the Virgin Mary was seen.  In correspondence following transmission, he told me he has not experienced anything paranormal during his time at Penyffordd Farm, nor has any of the hundreds who have stayed on the property told him of weird experiences (pers. comm. 22 August 2023).

Much hinges round the grave marker of the title, though Daniels’ article covers in it a couple of sentences (p. 208) so it was not considered to be important in the initial investigation.  It was made for a Jane Jones who died in 1778, aged 15.  When Daniels recorded a video in 2000 he filmed it leaning against the house, but a voice-over from Daniels’ notes says he was told the Gowers moved it somewhere more discreet in the summer of 1997 before daughter Nicolette’s wedding, as it was felt it might create the wrong atmosphere.  This does not appear in his article.

Daniels’ film shows it in a prominent position which his article identifies as ‘the outside front wall of the house’ (p. 208), so they may have moved again it after the wedding, or for Daniels’ benefit.  They later said to him that moving it was considered the catalyst for everything following, not a theory Daniels included in his article.  Why moving a grave marker, a not uncommon event, should have such far-reaching consequences in this instance, is unclear.

Eleri produces an audiotape of Rose-Mary saying they buried the marker when trying to sell the house in 2010.  The reason for the burial is confirmed by a typewritten note Rose-Mary put in the bin liner the slab was wrapped in when it was buried.  Eleri does not mention the note, but a photograph of it was kindly supplied to me by Michael Levy (pers. comm. 22 August 2023).  Dated 30 August 2010, it says the marker was found buried when the garden was being remodelled in the 1970s.

It was reburied, Rose-Mary continues, roughly where it was dug up because they did not want to put off potential purchasers.  Rose-Mary adds that while it is believed Jane Jones is buried in the garden, there is no evidence to support the theory.  That is a good reason for Eleri to exclude the note as the body being buried on the site becomes a key element in the Jane Jones story. Tellingly, despite being a ‘catalyst’ for the events, the note makes no reference to the marker’s supposed role in the phenomena.

In the programme, Michael Levy is initially unsure about the marker’s whereabouts but eventually finds it, and the camera crew records its disinterment.  For a slab nearly 250 years old and underground for over a dozen it was in remarkably good shape; too good as it happens, because comparing it to the film taken by Daniels in 2000 it appears to have been cleaned up.  Apparently, the Gowers decided to have the lichen removed at some point between Daniels filming it and when they buried it in 2010.  Michael Levy told me he has one of Rose-Mary’s photographs showing it inside the house (pers. comm. 24 August 2023), so it could be it was cleaned up after 2000 and made a feature in the home.  The cleaning has shown just how badly cut the lettering is.

Its provenance is obscure.  All we know for certain is that it was there before the Gowers moved in, because Daniels’ report notes it was visible in the estate agent’s photograph (p. 208).  Rose-Mary tells Eleri that David dug up a bit of alleged human spine while gardening at some point, but that is a long way from paranormal activity.  With a will, however, a narrative can be fashioned from disparate elements.  In ‘The “Brother Doli” Case: Family Perspectives’, short statements she and David wrote separately which were printed immediately after Daniels’ JSPR article, Rose-Mary claimed she saw a pregnant ghost, aged about 12, stroking the family cat on the patio.  The girl waved in response to Rose-Mary, who did not realise she was looking at a ghost (p. 223).

Rowe-Mary says her youngest daughter (i.e., Adrienne) suggested the figure was Jane Jones, as recorded on the grave marker (p. 223).  The pregnant ghost was not associated with Jane Jones in Daniels’ article and warrants only a couple of lines (p. 216).  Running with the link, Eleri quickly shifts from the marker’s presence on the property and the words ‘Jane’ and ‘Jones’ and the numbers ‘15’ and ‘1778’ among the writings on the wall inside the house to a local girl with the not uncommon name, especially in Wales, of Jane Jones born in 1763, as recorded in a register at the local archive.

A gentleman named Maurice, who lived in the house before the Gowers and believes he is related to Jane Jones, said there was a family story she died in childbirth and was buried in unconsecrated ground because of the shame.  That is taken as evidence of her dying in childbirth or as a suicide and being buried nearby.  Eleri ties together vague hearsay, someone called Jane Jones born at about the right time, a Jane Jones recorded on a grave marker that could have come from anywhere, and Jane Jones being the pregnant ghost-girl Rose-Mary says she saw.  These connections are purely speculative.

The monk finally turns up in episode three, though for some reason, the name Brother Doli, short for Adolphus, a nickname given by the Gowers (p. 197), is never mentioned, a surprising omission as it would help anyone searching for Daniels’ JSPR report.  It is obvious from the series’ title that the good brother is no longer the centre of interest even though Eleri says the monk had impacted the Gowers the most.  He does warrant coverage, and Eleri plots a pilgrim route from Shrewsbury to Holywell on a large wall map.  She finds a number of instances of alleged paranormal activity along it, many with the involvement of a monk.

Daniels’ article had referred to the pilgrimage route between Shrewsbury and Hollywell, associated with St Winifred (pp. 208-9).  While Eleri emphasises the religious aspect of the case, including the wall markings, as does Daniels (p. 217) and as is evident from the glossary in his article (p. 206), she does not call attention to Daniels’ information that David possesses a BEd in the unusual combination of Chemistry and Divinity (p. 200), suggesting, despite his sceptical pose, he would have possessed some theological knowledge.

Eleri’s embarrassing and pointless ouija board session with an English-speaking paranormal group in a pub on the pilgrimage route produces an encounter with a monk named William who claims to be able to speak Welsh, but not when Eleri asks him to say something in the language.  Eleri, while noting their sincerity, unsurprisingly looks sceptical when considering the value of their information.  The encounter fails to shed any light on Brother Doli, but then there was no reason why it should.

There is some business trying to locate Rose-Mary and David’s current address, and to add a little tension we see Eleri going through a phone book ringing up various Gowers like J R Hartley trying to track down a copy of Fly Fishing.  Rose-Mary makes a late appearance in the final episode, on the surface a strange choice as she had been the core of events, but apart from the attempt to build some suspense it quickly becomes clear why she is not prominent: while she is as ebullient as ever, and she and David come across as likeable, she sticks to her story and adds little that is new.

Rose-Mary tells Eleri she got ‘fed up’ with the attention the phenomena generated, but she looks pleased to have the spotlight back on her after all these years.  She maintains there must be a natural explanation for what happened, even if science hasn’t yet produced one.  In defence of the genuineness of their experiences, she points out that David was out all day and she was busy looking after John-Paul, so she was not faking for entertainment, nor for money.

Eleri does not put the obvious question, that she might have used the case and the public interest it generated, with all her media appearances, as a creative outlet to compensate for her constrained daily life; some of her appearances are listed by Daniels (p. 197), and there was press coverage in addition.  The attention would have been its own reward (Eleri observes she was thoroughly enjoying herself in the media appearances).   If so, other witnesses would then have colluded to protect her, or misinterpreted ordinary stimuli as paranormal.  On finishing her interview, Eleri concludes Rose-Mary was ‘the source of everything’, and on another occasion rather unflatteringly calls her ‘patient zero’ spreading perceptions of the phenomena to the rest of the family.

Rose-Mary asserts that at one time there was talk of a Hollywood film with the offer of thousands of pounds.  Daniels in his article listed motives for a hoax, a significant one being future financial exploitation, for example, a book or film (p. 219).  In the event, the Gowers said no because of the fictionalising approach the filmmakers planned to take.  Perhaps the family would have been subject to the same sort of treatment meted out to Enfield by James Wan in The Conjuring 2, Warren-style demonologists descending on Flintshire, but it is hard to imagine in what way Rose-Mary would be put off by that.

Whatever the motive, if she was hoaxing it is unlikely she could do it except in collusion with David.  That would make it easier for the critic to reach a conclusion, except there are statements from others about incidents, some of which occurred in Rose-Mary and David’s absence.  Adrienne, according to Eleri, was the first person to report seeing the monk.  Staying for a few days, she woke one night and felt a weight on the end of her bed.  Opening her eyes she saw a figure above her, a dark cloak covering its face, causing her to scream.  She claimed she hadn’t heard about the monk beforehand, which would rule out being influenced by stories from her parents.  Daniels includes this episode (p. 196), dating it to October 1998, with the detail that Adrienne saw a ‘young monk’ at the bottom of her bed, but she does not say how she could judge age when the face was covered.

Apart from Rose-Mary, the major witness is Nicolette.  She tells the story of going upstairs to the bathroom when visiting and hearing John-Paul in his room speaking, then hearing more than one male voice speaking Welsh, to which John-Paul responded.  Nicolette went in and asked who he was talking to, so he was clearly on his own.  John-Paul, it turns out, had quite a rapport with the monk, who, he said, lived in a corner of his bedroom, and Daniels was told he would report on the monk’s moods and (unspecified) activities (p. 201).

In February 2001, Rose-Mary emailed Daniels to say John-Paul had told her Brother Doli was leaving for a ‘happy, smiling place’ because John-Paul was about to turn 16 ‘and was too old’ (p. 215).  On John-Paul’s birthday the following month, Rose-Mary duly reported John-Paul had told her the brother had left and would not return (p. 216).  Brother Doli behaved more like an imaginary friend than a ghost.

It was not only Brother Doli whom John-Paul saw.  According to Daniels’ notes, read out as a voice-over in the programme, he said on one occasion John-Paul had reported he could see what was thought to be the ghost of Jane Jones sitting next to him while he watched TV, though this incident does not appear in his article, and in her ‘Family Perspectives’ article Rose-Mary states that ‘John-Paul has never mentioned seeing Jane’ (p. 223).  The contradiction is not explored by Eleri.

The programme does not make clear that Brother Doli and the ‘Jane’ ghost dovetailed.  John-Paul announced Brother Doli’s departure in early March.  Rose-Mary emailed Daniels on 23 March to say she had seen the pregnant ghost, ‘about 12 years of age,’ on the patio that morning (p. 216), just over a fortnight later.  As Rose-Mary put it in her JSPR article, it was ‘“Goodbye Doli, Welcome Jane!”’  (p. 223).  Perhaps she was thinking of the music hall song Goodbye, Dolly Gray, and as with the soldier wishing Dolly goodbye, the brother had belatedly heard the bugle calling.  It does seem quite a coincidence that one appeared almost as soon as the other departed, as if Jane arrived to fill the vacuum Brother Doli had left.

Although Daniels wound down his investigation at this point (p. 193), phenomena continued over the following months, and were said to have occurred even after David and Rose-Mary had moved to Eastbourne in 2002.  After the move, Nicolette and her husband Ewan stayed in the house with their new baby, with nobody else present.  Interviewed by Eleri, an emotional Nicolette recounts how the phenomena continued.  There were new wall writings, one of them their young son’s name.  They would see things in peripheral vision, and Nicolette saw a hooded figure, like a monk, looking over the cot in the night.  Nicolette heard the door latch raised and lowered, there was a cold spot in the lounge, and they heard children’s voices singing.

Even more startling is Eleri’s interview with Ewan.  He says that one day he came downstairs and found an enormous heavy wooden owl had moved from the living room to the kitchen.  The eldest child was four or five years old (suggesting they had been living in the house for some time) and Ewan does not think it possible for him to have moved it; Rose-Mary and David still own it, and during their meeting Rose-Mary invites Eleri to lift it; it does seem unlikely, though not impossible, that a young child could shift the thing.

On another occasion, Ewan came down early one morning, put the TV on and went to make coffee, and when he returned the owl was head-first in the fireplace, yet he had heard nothing.  He says it moved the full length of the room, though footage Daniels took in 2000 shows the owl standing by the fireplace.  Whatever the details, one wonders why, having gone through these extreme experiences, they stayed in the house, especially with two small children.

A voiceover by Daniels reading from his notes, said to date from March 2003, states the family is becoming increasingly distressed, to the point where the daughters are saying they must have an exorcism, though David dismisses it as ‘superstitious nonsense’.  The 2003 date is possibly an error as David and Rose-Mary were no longer resident, but he may be referring to Nicolette and Ewan’s experiences.  After working out exorcisms are really ‘a thing’, Eleri goes to Wrexham to find out from an Anglo-Catholic clergyman involved in deliverance ministry what it involves.

A tape recording of Rose-Mary speaking (no date given) says someone identifying as an exorcist came to the house, but the senior Gowers thought it silly.  She adds they would never have requested one.  Eleri makes the reasonable point that if you thought your house was haunted, wouldn’t you try anything to stop it?  Perhaps, she ponders, Rose-Mary was secretly happy for it to carry on, adding that it is always Rose-Mary who is interviewed in the extensive media coverage.

It was not just family members who said there was something spooky about the place.  Maurice said that during his residence he had felt a presence and as if he was being watched (though as he is only reporting it now, knowing about the Gowers and that it would likely get him on TV, his testimony has to be treated with caution).  A more substantial report, read from Daniels’ unpublished notes but not in his JSPR article, recounts the visit of a double-glazing salesman and his wife between Christmas and New Year 1999.  She sat in the car while he was inside, and when he returned 30 minutes later she was white, and said, ‘that house is haunted, isn’t it?’  She said she had seen a ‘shadow-like figure of a hooded monk passing back and forth in front of the house.’  We are not told, though, if Daniels interviewed them, or it was recounted by the Gowers, in which case we would only have their word for it.

Eleri interviews a Radio Wales producer, Alan Dolby, who was in the house making a programme in 2003 when he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye, as did a colleague at the same time.  The colleague in the recording says what is convincing is that there is just so much material; if Rose-May had been hoaxing, she would have been more subtle.  He does not consider the alternative, that she might have got carried away and wanted to keep it going so she would have more to say on programmes like his.  The over-the-top nature of the phenomena seemed to work well for her.

Then of course there is the report of the sighting by Irish holidaymakers named Michael and Concepta Dooley of the Virgin Mary very shortly after the Gowers moved into the house in February 1997.  Daniels’ JSPR report spends some time on the sighting and the ‘mini-Lourdes’ following it (pp. 194-95).  Rose-Mary sent a short account to the ‘Experiences’ section of the SPR’s Paranormal Review about the Virgin Mary sighting, published in the November 1997 issue.  A photograph she took said to show a face in a barn window was sent to Wales on Sunday, appearing on 1 June 1997 with the headline ‘Is this the face of Jesus’ mother?’ (p. 195).  Even at this stage she was obtaining publicity for strange events associated with her.

As the Dooleys could not be found, Daniels did not rule out a hoax, either by the couple or someone pretending to be them (p. 202).  This assumes they actually existed, but they may not have, despite Rose-Mary claiming to have met them in the lane in February 1997 (pp. 201-2).  Rose-Mary would seem a good candidate to have sent a letter to the newspaper purporting to come from a couple with names so Irish they sound fictitious.  She received a three-page hand-written letter purportedly from the couple addressed to ‘The Lady with the Labrador Dog’, dated 9 March (p. 194) confirming the sighting, but Daniels passes over it quickly.  He says nothing about comparing the it to handwriting samples taken from members of the family, and does not seem to consider it evidential.

If the Dooley episode was a hoax perpetrated by Rose-Mary, perhaps its success in fooling a newspaper and the resulting publicity gave her grander ideas, on which she quickly capitalised.  On the other hand, the programme may be the prompt for Michael and Concepta to come forward at last, in which case it will have served a very useful purpose.  Unfortunately, as Rose-Mary told the Mold & Buckley Chronicle they were in their late 50s or early 60s (p. 194), they may no longer be with us.

Ironically, despite their surname hinting at a south-west Wales origin, the Gowers are resolutely English.  Eleri states they ‘don’t speak a word of Welsh’ (even though Rose-Mary is heard on tape translating some words for Daniels), implying Rose-Mary was an unlikely source for words mostly written in Welsh.  What Eleri doesn’t tell us, but would have known from Daniels’ article, is that the family possessed a Collins Gem Welsh Dictionary, which he was told they bought after the initial Welsh word stains appeared (p. 207).  Spelling errors in the wall writings, he adds, would be unlikely to be made by a Welsh-speaker but are consistent with a non-Welsh speaker, possessing poorish eyesight, misreading the small font used in the dictionary (pp. 208, 218).  Although he does not say so, it can be seen from the programme that Rose-Mary was a spectacle wearer.

Daniels’s article also points out that words appear in isolation, not sentences (pp. 207, 218).  These would be much harder for a non-Welsh speaker to achieve convincingly.  Actually, Eleri does not seem to have read the article attentively.  For example, scrolling through a microfiche, she reads out from a local newspaper Rose-Mary’s account of dried flower petals being transformed into half-drowned wasps, which is dramatised for effect as she narrates, but she says it was in October 1998, the date on the newspaper, whereas Daniels tells us it was in August 1997 (p. 195).

Inspired by similarities to the Bélmez faces, referred to by Daniels (p. 217), Eleri learns what silver nitrate is and goes to Swansea University to see if it could explain some of the wall writings (but not the carvings).  Lab experiments with a similar surface are suggestive, the image appearing when exposed to light, then fading over time.  Eleri notes David would have had the requisite knowledge.  In his JSPR article, Daniels notes David has degrees in chemistry, David conceding it made him a prime suspect in a hoax (p. 218), and the stains could have been produced by chemical means, though Daniels does not finger silver nitrate as a possible candidate.

This is not, though, a brilliant insight by the Twenty Twenty team as three articles in JSPR about the Bélmez faces put forward the possible application of silver nitrate, and its use in photography is well known.  We are not told how long the images at Penyffordd Farm lasted compared to those created in the laboratory, so if they lasted significantly longer this would reduce the likelihood David purchased quantities of silver nitrate to create them, and indicate their creation, by whoever or whatever, employed some other method.

Most of the occurrences in the case point either to their reality, a hoax among the family, or one set in train by Rose-Mary which encouraged the family to interpret ambiguous stimuli as paranormal.  Malcolm Schofield of the University of Derby and also, though this was not mentioned in the programme, the current editor of JSPR (presumably how he came to be included), talks about the unreliability of eyewitness testimony and how witnesses can be primed to accept a paranormal interpretation, a point made by Daniels’ article (p. 219).

Daniels runs through a number of possible natural explanations: ‘natural artefacts, suggestibility of witnesses, errors of perception, or lapses in memory’ (p. 217).  Such effects may account for some of the reports, but not the physical aspects like the writings, the wasps and the moving owl.  Eleri wonders if something ‘primed’ the Gowers, such as the Virgin Mary sighting, but much cannot be put down to cognitive errors.

Although we hear from two of the daughters, an obvious omission is the third daughter.  There is another son, also adopted and the second oldest of the siblings, who is not mentioned at all in the programme.  Daniels had interviewed all three daughters, who reported strange experiences, but the other son, according to Daniels, had made few visits home since leaving in 1994, and was not interviewed (p. 201).  It would have been useful if viewers had been told the reason for the missing daughter’s non-participation in the programme, after she had talked to Daniels for his article.  Perhaps she had come to believe the events were not genuine but did not want to speak against her family and instead chose to keep quiet; she could have been unavailable for some other reason.  Something should have been said to clarify the reason for her absence.

We know little about the family background, which is reasonable in a television programme but is bound to hamper a full understanding of what might have been going on.  Daniels in his JSPR article writes about poltergeists ‘often expressing indirectly underlying emotional tensions within the family’, and he thought Brother Doli’s influence ‘generally seemed to provide the family with a sense of common interest and focus’ (p. 217).

Who knows what tensions existed within the family, but it is intriguing that, as Daniels records in his article, four of the five children, born between 1970 and 1976, left home between 1989 and 1997 (p. 201).  It is possible David, and particularly Rose-Mary, were in part using Brother Doli and the rest of the phenomena, consciously or unconsciously, to keep their children within the family orbit.  Alternatively, the events, which started in 1997, could have been an emotional response to the moving away of the children, or an activity, ‘the hoaxer’s hobby’ as Daniels puts it (p. 219) to fill the void felt by empty nesters.

Painting scenarios, Daniels in JSPR talks about a mixed case, with low-level genuine phenomena to which were added ‘imitative fraud’ for the more elaborate elements (p. 220).  It cannot be ruled out, nor can the possibility that the bulk of the phenomena were genuine, perhaps with peripheral elements of misperception.  But there are good reasons for thinking this was a hoax, with Rose-Mary, for whatever purpose, miking it.

If so, it may have backfired, because when the Gowers put the house up for sale in 2010 she tells Eleri it took two years to sell and went for less than it was worth.  Perhaps it would have taken that long anyway (the damp Michael Levy found cannot have helped), or perhaps potential buyers were put off by the house’s reputation.  Michael Levy tells Eleri he thought when hearing of the phenomena the price would go down, correctly it would seem.  One suspects all was peaceful during tours by potential purchasers.

When Rose-Mary concedes there might have been a hoax, but they can’t think by whom, clearly she doesn’t really think someone crept into the house unobserved and fabricated the phenomena.  She is thereby implying their genuineness.  John-Paul was caught on camera making marks on the wall (pp. 213-14), but doubtless he was responding to what was going on around him and did not have the capacity to undertake the vast majority of the reported events.

Daniels was told stains and carvings had appeared during family trips away, and he floats the possibility that someone else could have had access (p. 219).  The article does not say if the entire family went on these trips, so it is possible a family member came in and made them, assuming the information that markings appeared while the house was empty is correct; Daniels does not say if he confirmed this independently.  That would not account for all the phenomena though.  A family conspiracy is not beyond the realm of possibility, as Daniels says (p. 219).  Adrienne’s argument which she puts to Eleri that something happened when each family member, including Rose-Mary, was absent is intended to support a paranormal explanation but ignores the possibility of collusion.

An omission in the programme is the lack of an acknowledgement of the SPR.  Eleri is filmed taking a copy of JSPR out of Daniels’ document box, and when speaking of Daniels’ ‘research notes’ she is flipping through his article.  She later refers to it, but without naming the publication.  The brief clip of Malcolm Schofield does not identify him as the current editor of JSPR.  It would have been polite if either Daniels or Eleri had mentioned the SPR’s involvement.  It is particularly significant that Eleri does not say, as Daniels tells us, that both Rose-Mary and David had been members of the SPR (p. 219).

They would therefore have had a great deal of information on hauntings and poltergeists, of which they had a long-standing interest, Rose-Mary in particular after her family in Guernsey experienced ‘poltergeist-type phenomena’ from before she was born to after she left home (p. 201).  Knowledge of the literature would be of assistance to anyone wishing to imitate poltergeist effects.  Eleri not referring to their knowledge of hauntings and poltergeists has the effect of suggesting that the Gowers were unfamiliar with their characteristics, but this was far from the case.

My final thoughts are that Michael Daniels worked hard to produce his JSPR report, which needs to be read by anyone who wants a more accurate picture than Eleri provides, but I still think, as I did when I first read it, that it did not warrant the space it took up.  It is flawed by Daniels muddying the water between treating the Gowers as the subjects of an investigation and collaborators.  While there is always a chance there were genuine paranormal phenomena occurring during the Gowers’ period of residence, on the balance of probability the events he reported on are too far in the direction of a hoax.  Several times in the programme and surrounding publicity Penyffordd Farm was given the accolade of ‘the most haunted house in Wales’ and ‘the most haunted house in Britain’, but it assumes there was a haunting, and that is by no means the correct assessment.

The Girl, the Ghost and the Gravestone, by contrast to Daniels’ investigation, is lazily produced and omits much pertinent information.  It is structured as entertainment, its primary function, so it fails properly to get to grips with the case.  The many shortcomings can perhaps be summed up by a moment at the end when Eleri has a final meeting with Daniels.  He tells her that when his article was in draft he showed it to the Gowers, and the couple wrote a response (actually two separate responses), i.e. the ‘Family Perspectives’ article following his.  He asks Eleri if she would like to see it and she says yes, as if it was new to her. 

She reads snippets from David’s statement, changing the odd word for clarity while making it sound like a continuous narrative.  She concludes with ‘but I can only say that it felt very real to me.’  Dramatic, yes, but that is the final sentence in Rose-Mary’s statement, which Eleri has tacked on.  The willingness to manipulate for effect damages the programme’s credibility, and left me wondering what the point of it was, other than to launch Eleri’s career beyond the confines of the BBC1 studio, with further television series promised.

 

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank Michael Levy for taking the time to correspond with me, and supplying a photograph of the note left with the grave marker.

 

References

Daniels, Michael. ‘The “Brother Doli” case: Investigation of Apparent Poltergeist-type Manifestations in North Wales’, Journal of the Society for Psychical Research 66, October 2002, pp. 193-221.  (Reprinted in Richard Wiseman and Caroline Watt (eds.). Parapsychology (The International Library of Psychology). Farnham, Surrey: Ashgate Publishing, 2005.

Gower, Rose-Mary. ‘Marian Visions and Cures in a Welsh Field’, The Paranormal Review, Issue 4, November 1997, p. 11.

Gower, Rose-Mary and Gower, David. ‘The “Brother Doli” case: Family Perspectives’, Journal of the Society for Psychical Research 66, October 2002, pp. 222-24.

Romero, José Martínez. ‘The Faces of Bélmez: Its Mystery and Message’, Journal of the Society for Psychical Research 61, January 1997, pp. 337-9.

Ruffles, Tom. ‘Correspondence’, Journal of the Society for Psychical Research 67, April 2003, p. 158; Michael Daniels’ reply, pp. 159-60.

Tort, César J. ‘Will Permanent Paranormal Objects Vindicate Parapsychology?’, Journal of the Society for Psychical Research 58, July 1991, pp. 16-35.

Tort, César J and Ruíz-Noguez, Luis.  ‘Are the Faces of Bélmez Permanent Paranormal Objects?’ Journal of the Society for Psychical Research 59, July 1993, pp. 161-71.


Update 12 January 2024:

Television columnist Stu Neville reviewed the programme in Fortean Times, no. 437, November 2023, p. 61.  He repeated Eleri’s comment that the Gowers were not Welsh speakers, and I wrote to the editor on 21 October 2023 to point out that their Welsh dictionary would have supplied all the words they needed to conduct a hoax.  The letter was published in Fortean Times no. 441, February 2024, p. 67:

 Stu Neville’s television column discussing the BBC’s Paranormal: The Girl, the Ghost and the Gravestone, about the Penyffordd Farm/Brother Doli case (FT437:61), includes presenter Sian Eleri’s observation that Rose-Mary and David Gower were not Welsh speakers.  This implied they could not have been responsible for the appearance of Welsh words in the house.

However, Michael Daniels, the psychologist responsible for investigating the case, states in his lengthy report, published in the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, that they owned a Collins Gem Welsh Dictionary, so the manufacture of Welsh words was not beyond them.  Daniels also points out that words appeared in isolation, not in sentences which would be harder for a non-Welsh speaker to achieve convincingly.

He adds that spelling errors found in the wall writings would be unlikely to be made by a Welsh-speaker but were consistent with a non-Welsh speaker possessing poorish eyesight misreading the dictionary’s small font.  He does not say so in the article but it can be seen from the programme that Rose-Mary Gower was a spectacle wearer.

Sian Eleri knew all this because she had access to Dr Daniels’ records including his article in JSPR, a copy of which she can be seen holding in one shot (though any reference to the SPR is conspicuously absent in the programme).  Yet she omitted to mention the possession of a Welsh dictionary, an important piece of evidence in assessing the wall writings.

In fact, there was much information missing necessary to reach a balanced conclusion, not least that David and Rose-Mary Gower had been SPR members and would therefore have had some knowledge of hauntings and poltergeists, useful to someone contemplating a hoax.  Despite being structured as such, the programme was not a serious reinvestigation, and Penyffordd Farm, billed in the publicity as ‘the most haunted house in Britain,’ did not live up to the hype.